He Had It Coming
by Ayane458
Summary: The six sensational Freelancer women and the man who pushed them over the edge.


"So… Mrs Church," the handsome young detective began. Allison smiled encouragingly at him to continue. "We… we know that you murdered your husband. We're just trying to establish a motive." He spoke directly, if a little shyly. He left it up to her to decide how the conversation would go. Allison smiled. She liked that.

"First off, call me Allison. I think my marriage with Leonard was recently annulled," she chuckled lightly at her own joke. "Secondly…"

"Allison," Leonard frowned. "I don't like this."

"I know, honey," Allison muttered, fast getting tired of Leonard's insistence that she reconsider. An hour had been spent like this. Arguing, back and forth, as she tried to get ready for deployment while he delayed her in every possible way. For Christ's sake, she was a grown woman. Leonard could keep his nose out of her business, husband or not.

"Please, just stay here. You could be killed!" He looked at her with big, pleading eyes. But there was something else there. He didn't want to lose her. He also didn't want to lose _to_ her. He didn't want her to go away because that would mean he lost the argument. Did he really want to let his more controlling and competitive side run free like this?

Yeah, he really did.

"Leonard," she said through clenched teeth. "I need to leave."

"I can't let you." He tried to make his voice soft. Romantic. Entreating and vulnerable, yet firm. All she heard was an order.

"Later, Leonard." She picked up her SMG and began to walk off, still not quite able to say good-bye. He grabbed her arm as she passed him.

"No."

The aggressive move was his mistake. She took his hand and shoved him away from her.

As their eyes met, Allison realised that he truly didn't understand why she couldn't just do what he wanted. Why she didn't follow his orders. He really, really thought that he knew best.

Allison felt two things at that moment. Pity for the poor deluded bastard. And a readiness to say goodbye.

She never went to war. But her SMG got some use.

The bullets made a nice sound when they entered his head.

_Pop._

"Agent Carolina, you are under arrest for the murder of Director Leonard L. Church," the guard in front of her yelled. He and his five friends directed their weapons at her, disregarding the rest of the room. She didn't blame them. They were in a pretty isolated area, and it had been confirmed she was acting alone.

"What evidence is there?" she asked innocently, letting her arms hang by her side rather than raising them above her head.

"_Camera footage. Eye-witness testimony._ It was your pistol that killed him. You had motive. What evidence _isn't_ there?" he shot back. "Now raise your hands."

Carolina nodded in agreement with his comments, but left her hands where they were. In easy reaching distance of her weapons.

She'd had her doubts about Daddy Director her whole life. Well, since after her mother died, anyway. All those little hints and suspicions had been confirmed after Tex had showed up. He never really cared about her. As soon as someone better showed up he forgot all about her. He just wanted the perfect soldier and he did everything he could to make his daughter that. Strong. Intelligent. Deadly.

The look on his face when his training was thrown back in it was priceless.

She had wasted her whole _life_ trying to please him. She would never get those years back. She'd simply tried to get a little… justice.

How many bullets had she poured into him? The same amount of bodies she was about to make here.

_Six._

The former 479-er looked down at the spreading pool of blood around the man she'd killed. Oh, he'd deserved it. It was his stupid, reckless disregard of his subordinates that had landed him in this situation. She placed the smoking gun in her lap and laughed.

She used to be a brilliant pilot. She could've been the best.

And now she'd lost her ability to use her legs. A crash during one of his damn simulation missions. Her future as a pilot was gone. For nothing.

She wheeled herself over his body on her way to the door.

_Squish_.

South smirked under her helmet. _This_ could only end well.

"South… what happened?" North was breathing shakily. Clearly he'd seen the mess she'd left behind. Of course, she'd hardly tried to hide it. Why bother at this point? Tex, Carolina, Wyoming and York were gone. Maine and Wash had gone insane. CT was dead. There was no one left who could punish her for what she'd done.

Her brother would hardly do it.

"North, you know he would've sent people after us –after all of us. If we want to run, it's better this way," South answered calmly, trying to get her brother to miss her true motives. Well, there were a lot of similarities –it was just that she didn't do this for everyone. She did it for her.

The Director would've hunted them all, and South would need time to adjust to a life of covering her tracks. While she'd now be wanted for murder, at least she'd bought herself some time.

"They'll still hunt us," North murmured, voice dazed. "For murder."

"They won't find us… if we leave now," South shrugged and grabbed her assault rifle. It wasn't the weapon she'd used, but North still flinched. "I was just trying to buy everybody some time. _Us_ some time. I got your back, North."

North nodded, trying to hide how disturbing he thought his sister was being. South rolled her eyes. She'd known him since he was born. Did he think he could hide anything from her?

"I got your back, too, South," he grinned weakly, and the two prepared to depart from the destroyed _Mother of Invention_. "You… um… you won't do anything like that again, will you?"

South thought about her response for a moment.

"_Uh-uh."_

"What do you want, Connecticut?" he growled.

CT smiled, baby-face looking uncharacteristically smug. Out of armour, she was quite a small woman. Still muscular in a way, but she looked a lot more vulnerable. Her armour had been taken away. Everything had. For evidence.

She'd done it. She'd brought down the Director and Project Freelancer. She would bring them to justice, the Director, Counsellor and anyone else who used her and her friends. Everything she knew, she'd sent to the UNSC. It was all falling down around the man.

CT had found him before the authorities had.

Placing her pistol in front of the man, she gave him his options. "That pistol has one bullet. The UNSC will be here in minutes. Do with it what you will."

She watched as he considered his options –life imprisonment, revenge, death and whatever freedom could be gained from that. He grabbed the pistol and aimed at her head.

CT held his gaze steadily. She'd done everything she needed to do. Even if he killed her now, she had still won.

The Director realised this too.

She walked out of the room, out of the old Freelancer hideout and waited for the UNSC authorities to arrive. Somehow, the situation reminded her of something…

_Cicero_.

"So," Tex greeted, "want to explain this?"

She tossed the data-pad with copies of the files CT had so kindly given her opened. The one opened right now was about the Beta AI. The Director took one look before his eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Texas… Allison, you must understand. I had no choice but–"

Any hope Tex might have had for a decent answer was soon dashed as the Director's normally cool composure broke under her gaze. He babbled, on and on about everything he had felt when he'd lost her, Allison, all those years ago.

None of that excused the sick bastard deciding to put his former wife's memory to use in his own twisted schemes and pit her against her now all-grown-up daughter.

One excuse after another.

Tex didn't have a lot of patience at the moment.

His talk stopped when he saw the gun.

_Lipshitz._

**This is what happens when you listen to too much Cell Block Tango, children.**

**Anyway, explanations:**

**Six women were needed, so I decided to include Allison.**

**479-er's bit ascribed to the theory that she was injured on a mission and ended up as mission control that way.**

**Cicero was a Roman senator… who was forced to commit suicide. That's the relation.**

**I went with a more modern and crude definition of 'Lipshitz'. Originally, it referred to the name of a character –here it referred to a guy who couldn't shut up.**

**Don't think this is my strongest work, but I do like a few of the sections. I think CT or Carolina's is my favourite.**


End file.
